


here, at the end of the world

by pomme (manta)



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, deep talks while looking at the sky, myrrh is so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manta/pseuds/pomme
Summary: You're not sure what she wants, standing at ease, resolute and bright-eyed before you. But she has always been good to you, never too tired to spare a kind word for you even when she herself is weary from battle, and you hastily swallow your mouthful of food to answer. "Yes, Princess Tana? How may I help you?""I should like to see the stars," she says.When Myrrh and Tana embark on a small journey.
Relationships: Myrrh & Turner | Tana
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	here, at the end of the world

**Author's Note:**

> feh is so fun with all the characters from different series mixing together! and i've always wanted a myrrh and tana support, so this was my chance to do that :D
> 
> myrrh is such an interesting character to me. her fe:h confession is the only one that's made me cry, and it's because she's this mix of lovable, warm, and solemn that just really pulls at my heartstrings.
> 
> hope you like~

"Lady Myrrh?"

You look up from your bowl of stew and turn to the girl who addresses you, her head tilted so her long ponytail sweeps over one shoulder.

You're not sure what she wants, standing at ease, resolute and bright-eyed before you. But she has always been good to you, never too tired to spare a kind word for you even when she herself is weary from battle, and you hastily swallow your mouthful of food to answer. "Yes, Princess Tana? How may I help you?"

"I should like to see the stars," she says.

She looks you full on in the face—her smile practiced but genial, shoulders squared and hands at her sides like a soldier, her raised chin giving away her royal station and stubborn nature. Her brother once called her a hurricane in a fit of temper; though he didn't mean it kindly, you couldn't help but think it an apt descriptor of how various identities that shouldn't mesh settle in her as a perfect storm.

Her words, too, are honest, but with room for you to maneuver. She wants to see the stars, but you don't have to as well, unless you wish to.

You blink at her, comprehending but not entirely believing. "With...me?"

"If you want!" Hearing the hope in your voice, she visibly brightens. "Achaeus would love an excuse to stretch his wings on a nice, clear night like this. And I have a feeling it's just the sort of place you'd like."

* * *

You both take off into the sky—Tana astride her pegasus, you alongside her.

You'd almost forgotten there was no need to transform, now. The nights here are darker than any other places you've been, save for those at your beloved woods. While the blackness shrouds secretive acts like reconnaissance or ambush, it also provides cover for journeys like these. No one fights whole battles after dark. But you transform anyway, because doing so reminds you of when you changed at will, whenever you liked, zigzagging among the trees with your friends without a care in the world.

Oddly, Tana makes you feel like that often. Like the both of you aren’t fighting a war with no end in sight. Like this is a joyride constructed of whims and light-footed hopes.

You keep close, offering a tentative hand, and Achaeus extends his neck to eagerly push his nose into your palm. "Where...are we going?"

This height is plenty, for stargazing. But Tana lets Achaeus soar, ever upward; clearly, she has somewhere else in mind.

"Sharena told me about a place that's not too far from here!" she calls over the wind. Being a dragon means you pick up each word perfectly, and don't need to ask her to repeat herself. "The Summoner wanted to come, but I told them only fliers could reach that high. They sulked for a while, but I promised to tell them all about it."

You can't help smiling to yourself at that. You and Tana would have come into contact with one another, eventually. But the Summoner sped up that process by placing you both in the same team.

"M-Me?" you had asked, sure you had misheard. "Me...on a flier team?"

"Of course!" The Summoner waved their hands about, utterly oblivious to your concern. "Who else would I pick?"

You stopped to think. "Um. Well—"

"No, no, don't answer! That was a rhetorical question!" The Summoner gently steered you by the shoulders in the direction where Tana and your other two teammates were waiting. "Just do me one favor. No badmouthing me while you're all up there, understand? And tell me if you run into issues with my strategies! And go make friends!"

"That's three favors," you ventured, timid, and the Summoner swatted at you as a final send-off.

You turned to face your fellow fliers, who waited expectantly for you to introduce yourself.

You curled your hands into fists, standing your ground. "Hello," you said, bravely. "I am Myrrh, of Darkling Woods."

Tana and the others smiled as they chorused as one, "Welcome to our team, Lady Myrrh!"

Are you a lady? You didn't know. Frankly, you still don't. But, somehow, the way Tana says it doesn't make you feel overly stately or unbefitting of the title, the way "Great Dragon" does when people say it with awe in their eyes. Rather, the words seem natural coming from her—a girl addressed as a princess and who responds in kind, yet roars tavern songs and competes in spitting contests with the best of them.

* * *

The wind has quieted as the two of you rise above the strongest of the currents. Almost there, says Tana. And then you hear it—musical phrases of a tune that turn a pub into something else altogether.

"Why do you like them so much?"

"Hm?" She stops mid-hum to glance at you.

"Why do you like those songs?"

She sings them even with an empty tankard, banging whatever's in reach that she can repeatedly slam on the table without breaking, all for the sake of keeping the rhythm. Of keeping people together.

You’re about to apologize, thinking yourself too forward, but she answers without hesitation. “They’re fun!” She gives you that grin of hers, cheeky and wide. "And they're great to sing with everyone!"

You don't really get it. But when you think about it, you guess you kind of do.

Eirika, your sister and Tana’s best friend, doesn't always partake in Tana's calls for another round of music. Eirika’s like you; more often than not, she prefers to observe the chaos rather than participating in it—watching her brother throw himself into any noisy situation, watching Tana tumble and dive in mid-air.

She always stays to watch over them. She will sit beside Tana, exchanging hidden smiles with you across the table while Tana pesters Saber to teach her all the tavern songs he knows.

“Isn’t that enough, lass?” he often groans, when she’s learned several in a row and still wants more. “You’ll wring me dry of tunes, and that’s no easy feat. I’ll have you know every tavern in Novis orders extra barrels before my arrival at port.”

“Please, Saber!” she begs, unapologetic. “Just one more!”

“That’s what you said after the last one,” he always answers, before relenting.

* * *

The drop on the cliff’s face is even more spectacular with the sunset as a backdrop.

It is so sheer that only seasoned fliers wouldn’t flinch at the sight. Your first thought is not of its beauty, but that it was fortunate the Summoner couldn’t come.

“What I’ve always wondered,” remarks Tana, as she kisses Achaeus’s nose and lets him settle back in a cave that protects him from the worst of the chilly air, “is how _Sharena_, of all people, knew about this place.”

“She has her ways,” you offer. “Princess Sharena has many friends.” As does Tana, but you don’t mention that aloud.

Tana smiles. “As do you and I,” she says, somehow both voicing your thought and expanding on it. “And you’re right. It makes sense she’s heard about it, but hasn’t visited it. Which makes it all the kinder of her to tell us, since she can’t come here herself.”

You settle on the edge of the cliff to dangle your legs over the side. Tana joins you, unbothered by the cold, even though she definitely feels it more than you do. You surreptitiously curl your wings, so as to better insulate the both of you.

“Why did you think I would like a place like this?” you ask.

“I thought you should like to get away from all the hustle and bustle,” she says. “Eirika makes the same face you do, when everyone’s being too rowdy. But she has her own places for when she wants to be alone.”

“Princess Eirika hasn’t been here?”

Somehow, the thought is discomfiting—that you should see something before Tana’s best friend does.

But Tana isn’t worried. “I think it’s the sort of place that fliers would appreciate,” she says. “I mean, look at us, sitting so close to the edge! Who else would do that and not blink an eye?”

She’s right. The most cautious, including Eirika, wouldn’t risk engaging with such a dangerous environment.

“It’s almost nightfall, so let’s wait a bit more.” Tana turns to survey the ground beneath her. “Hm, there are quite a few rocks here, but that’s all right. I have blankets in my saddle bag we can share.”

She tucks you in without a second thought—as if looking after you comes easily to her, as if taking care of you is the most natural thing in the world. For some reason, this brings you close to tears and fortunately, she senses you don’t wish to speak just yet.

“Commander Anna says we march again in two days’ time,” she says. “The enemy is razing villages, and Prince Alfonse hopes to minimize civilian casualties and damage.”

That explains why visibility has become so reduced as of late. “These people aren’t of the Askran kingdom,” you say. “Prince Alfonse is pure of heart.”

It’s difficult to see sometimes, and not in a literal way. On the best of days, it’s hard to remember what you’re fighting for. But Alfonse and Sharena, sensitive as they are to their surroundings, remain clear-eyed and firm, no matter how difficult the circumstances become. Able to see beyond what’s before them, like dragons without the same lives and limbs.

“Cormag doesn’t agree,” and Tana’s looking down. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen her this dejected. “He says while the war lasts, all of our hands are sullied. That we think we’re the ones in the right, because that makes it easier to sleep at night.” She’s clearly been mulling this over; the words catch on their way out, and she turns to you. “Do you think so, Lady Myrrh?”

You consider her question carefully. The way Tana speaks to you is not the same as, say, the twins or the adult humans treat you. The former keep you close and protect you because you are their honorary sibling; the latter do the same, because you are a child to them.

But Tana seems to have noticed how you frown when you’re patted on the head for something that everyone else is doing, or when you want to contribute during meetings in the barracks and aren’t taken seriously. She only offered to rub your wings down once, before realizing you preferred to do it yourself. When your team strategizes, she listens and nods when you speak. When you spar, you feel the brunt of her brute strength with a lance against your jaws.

She isn’t precious with you—perhaps because she doesn’t want you to be precious with her, either.

“I think,” you say, choosing your words even slower than usual, and she waits, “that war makes people live in ways they never intended. But we should be kind, where we can.”

While you and Tana talked, the stars came out. Twinkling above the world with their secrets, they are much, much more long-lived than you will ever be. That reminder grounds you, keeps you aware of how little you know in light of everything you will never learn.

You don’t know if what you say will placate Tana, or only serve to further unsettle her. Either way, you expect you’ll see her reaction on her face. She is easy to read, for better or worse. But she would only want to hear your truth and nothing else, and so it is what you give to her, to do with as she sees fit.

Her face is contemplative for a moment more. Then it splits back into the wide grin you’re accustomed to seeing, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I can live with that,” she decides. “You’re so thoughtful, Lady Myrrh.”

“Not really,” you amend. “I just want us all to get along, while we’re together.”

Unexpectedly, Tana laughs. “Grima, too? We’re all worms to her. She’d hate this place. She’d resent being under the stars and try to eat them.”

Her cheer is infectious, and you feel your mouth curling upwards, too. “It’s already plenty that she tolerates flying alongside us.”

With the cliff below you dropping out into nothing and the endless expanse of the heavens, you feel weightless. Suspended in between the sky and the earth in the curious sort of flight where you no longer have the sensation of your own body as an anchor, you linger in the warmth of good company and the slow thuds of your still-beating heart.

You commit what happens today, here on this cliff face, to your long memory.

“When this war ends,” you say, because although you’ve lived long enough to know how certainties can so quickly become impossibilities, you know Tana likes to hear _when_ rather than_ if_, “I would like to return to our world together, and to show you, Princess Eirika, and Prince Ephraim my home.”

Tana’s smile is still bright. Even in the dark, even when you two are specks under the brilliance of the stars. “I’d like that very much. Promise?”

You can’t, for your own understanding of what a promise constitutes—a vow that stretches across a reach of time that humans don’t have.

But you can, for the time being and for as long as Tana will call you teammate and friend—and that is reason enough.

“I promise,” you say.


End file.
